Mary, Marshall, and a Coupla Other Guys
by veronica leigh
Summary: Hey, it's Al Capone! Aw, not really. But it's another one of those iPod-Drabble-rific Mary and Marshall stories! Wootness, right? Anyway, I hate it when people say they suck at summaries, so I'm just going to let you decide. Hope you like it!


**AN: Yoooo! You guys! This is my first story on FF (obviously) but I hope you like it! (:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own IPS or Mary or Marshall, or the songs I based these awesomesauce mini-shots on, but I am in love with them (ex., Marshall, the songs, blah, bleh)**

**Nice doin' business with ya'! On with the show~**

**#1**

**Remembering Sunday – All Time Low**

Mary was on an overnight flight to Denver that Sunday night – or, technically, that Monday morning. She looked around at the countless, stringent-looking older business people in the seats around her.

_Goodbye, Marshall. _

She looked out the window, resigned to the future she'd built for herself.

Marshall Mann awoke on that Wednesday morning, automatically calling in sick again. Stan knew he wasn't sick, Eleanor knew he wasn't sick, Mary-

Don't. Don't think about her.

He'd looked for her, asked Brandi and Jinx where she was; they didn't know, said she'd not come home at all Sunday and hadn't seen her since. Stan knew, Marshall knew he knew. But he wouldn't relinquish any information.

He went back home, throwing away the useless, empty bottles of whiskey on his kitchen counters. He popped a couple of pain killers into his mouth, dry. He somehow knew, without looking in a mirror, that his eyes were more bloodshot than normal; his hair was messed up, reciprocating the feelings in his heart.

He was a complete mess.

_Thank you, Mary._

This wasn't home. Not anymore.

**#2**

**Make-Up Smeared Eyes – Automatic Loveletter**

Mary sat on the edge of her bed, holding her head in her hands. Raph was gone; she'd made sure of that. Marshall was undoubtedly at home, oblivious to the havoc she'd allowed him to cause in her life. Or, more accurately, the havoc she'd allowed Raphael to cause concerning her partner.

Marshall was completely innocent here. It wasn't one hundred percent Raph's fault; she had some weight on her shoulders, as well. But he was the one who'd initiated the fight_, the_ Fight.

Mary looked over her shoulder at her phone on the bedside table. She wouldn't bother Marshall right now. He was probably too busy with his Jeopardy or history or Discovery channel right now anyway.

No. she'd wait to tell him Raph was gone till tomorrow. Maybe let him figure it out for himself. He was a pretty smart cookie, he could handle it.

Mary stood and went to the living room, looking around. Jinx had saved enough money up from her job at the studio and moved into her own apartment; Brandi had unofficially moved in with Peter. Raph was out of the…picture.

Mary took the picture of her and Raph off of the door, studying it. It was her, smiling so falsely it made her visibly cringe, not that anyone was there to see it.

Without warning, she threw the picture to the ground, hard. "Damn him," she muttered, going into the kitchen. "I need a drink." Thank God Jinx had moved out.

**#3**

**Tourniquet – Evanescence**

Mary looked at her partner, sitting in the recliner adjacent to the couch she occupied. "I kicked him out, more like," she scoffed, shaking her head. "He was grating on my nerves, anyway. He's so _needy_."

Marshall didn't say anything, just sat with his ginger ale in his plastic red cup, rocking himself on the recliner slightly, his moving foot acting of its own volition. He was staring off into space, but Mary knew he'd heard every word she'd said. "So," he said after a very long while, always staring at the bubbly liquid in his cup, "did you know that the original version of Canada Dry ginger ale was invented by a Canadian named John McLaughlin? He was a pharmacist who started in Toronto, but then got into the pop business by opening a carbonated water plant. Now, needless to say, he didn't_ invent _ginger ale. That happened in Ireland, in 1851…"

Mary couldn't help but smile slightly as her partner continued to babble about ginger ale and Irish drunkards. He was her safety net, someone she'd come to inexplicably trust without even realizing it. He knew without her voicing it that she didn't want to think about her issues at home right now, that she wanted to just listen to his little mental articles of information, maybe even get frustrated about them just for some surge of emotion besides anger and the crushing disappointment she felt in herself. Yet another failure.

Mary tuned back into what Marshall was saying; sometimes, when you listen, you actually learn something.

**#4**

**Angels on the Moon – Thriving Ivory**

By the time Mary was ten, she was practically the guardian of her four-year-old sister. She fed her, clothed her; not to mention all of that on top of school, bills that she paid with the little money her mother gave her, and getting food. She didn't have time for frivolous dreams. She had time for harsh reality, and that was it. The beginning, the middle, and the end.

Mary had kept one dream, and one dream only. The thought that kept her going through those nine years of pure emotional abuse and confusion was that she would, no matter what, turn out differently than her family. She would do something with her life.

So she'd joined the U.S. Marshal service, not committing to any partners for more than four months or so. When she'd met Inspector Marshal Marshall Mann, or Miller, as the witnesses knew him, she instantly disliked him; not only for his completely clean-cut appearance, or his picture-perfect family that her imagination supplied her with at first, and then he later confirmed; she disliked him because he talked back to her.

Nobody calls Marshal Mary Shannon _Mary Sunshine_ and gets away with it.

**#5**

**Something – Escape the Fate**

"You don't!" He yelled, his face red from the blood rushing through his veins to get to his brain in a vain attempt to get him to think clearly. "Nobody else would have you," he spat.

"So? Why the hell would that faze me, _Chico_?" She gave him an exasperated look, shaking her head as she sat on the edge of her bed. She got her phone from her pocket.

"Oh, is that _him_ now? Are you talking to your _Sweet_heart?" He was obviously plastered, practically to the wall. Mary just rolled her eyes and ignored him. She sent Marshall an S.O.S. message and looked up in time to see Raph lean against the bathroom doorframe, his eyelids drooping. "Nobody else wants a frigid bitch who is completely incapable of love," he said, his accent growing thicker as he progressed into his drunken stupor.

Mary's anger got the best of her and she stood, moving up to Raphael's face. "That's not true." She slapped him with as much force as possible. She heard movement behind her to see Marshall, looking ready to pounce.

_He's wrong._

**#6**

**Forgiven – Within Temptation**

When her father left them, she barely knew what had happened. She thought maybe one of his bets had given him an extra large amount of money, and he was bringing home lots of presents for her and Brandi. But, no; after about two weeks, Mary realized her father wasn't coming back, and she resumed her role as full-time mother to Brandi, and her role as caretaker of her mother.

Why did he leave her to take care of them? She couldn't work on her own. It was too hard.

He might have loved her, she might have been his favorite. That didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now. He'd permanently scarred her. There was no going back. He could temporarily fix her, but there would always be that underlying scar tissue, like from a really bad disease you got in your liver from consuming too much alcohol to the point where you overwork your liver and make it destroy its natural tissue, replacing it with scar tissue.

Geez. She needed to stop hanging out with Marshall in her free time.

Yes, she could forgive; but she could not, under any circumstances, forget.

**#7**

**Girls Do What they Want – the Maine**

Marshall watched as his partner gave some random, defenseless new guy a piece of her mind regarding his being late to work. She came in late every morning, but who cares, right? As long as she gets here at all, Stan was fine.

She, on the other hand, apparently was not.

Marshall's emotions were on total PMS-mode; Mary had recently broken up with Raphael, and she'd already had multiple dating invitations. But she hadn't taken any of them, thank God.

Now was Marshall's chance; tell her how he felt. She would know! They'd ride off happily into the sunset!

Oh, who was he kidding? This was Mary we were talking about here, she hated sugar-coated declarations. "Hey, Mare?"

"Yeah?" She instantly turned away from the new guy and he scampered off.

"I love you."

It took her a few minutes to reply. "I know."

**#8**

**Why – Secondhand Serenade**

Mary looked blankly at her partner's house before standing. Raph was gone, and she knew what she had to do. She'd not known what to do for so long, the sensation of being completely certain was foreign to her.

Life had been hard recently; Marshall was slightly different since the engagement had been announced. Raph was an overprotective prick since she got shot, but now he was gone. Jinx had been more unruly and self-centered than usual, but Mary couldn't deny that she was proud of her for being on her own now. And Brandi… Brandi was too far gone, engaged to Peter, getting married in a month.

Mary was on her own, unless she planned to change that herself. And she did.

She got out of the Probe and went to the door, knocking loudly.

Marshall opened the door seconds later, looking so cute and adorable, with his disheveled hair and sleepy eyes and cowboy pajama pants. Hot.

Mary smiled and silently walked into the house. Marshall looked after her, looking slightly more awake.

That's all that needed to be done.

**#9**

**Hero/Heroine – Boys Like Girls**

She was his little firecracker; his pride and joy, his heroine. She knew it now, she knew. He grinned at the thought of her being her usual brash self. But when they got home, guards would be let down and they would watch Jeopardy together (he owned the box set), and talk and or stay silent, whichever. She would hold his hand with hers, occasionally brought up to his lips for a kiss. She would lean against him, maybe even fall asleep so he'd have to pick her up and carry her to bed.

He turned away from his kitchen to the heroine on his couch, and he noticed with a dry smile that the term could be used both ways. She was addictive, strong, natural but potent, and independent.

She was his, and he was her hero.

**#10**

**Here We Go Again – Paramore**

"Raph; leave, now," Mary sighed frustratedly, running her hands through her hair. "You have to leave."

"Mommy!" A voice squealed from behind her, and she spun to see her three year old daughter running towards her, carrying a water gun. It highly resembled a real gun, and Mary got this perverse satisfaction from the cringe Raph gave as he saw her.

"Yeah, babe?" she asked her kid, and knelt down. Caroline ran to her mother's arms, hiding her face from the stranger.

"Daddy said dinner's almost ready. And Uncle Stan's coming for dinner, and Grandma, too," her daughter mumbled, but still loud enough for Raphael to hear.

"Uncle… Stan?" Raph said, looking completely confused. Then it dawned on him. He looked panicked as he studied her left hand, which supported her daughter's weight on her hip. A simple white gold band was fused with a matching ring, a grouping of tiny diamonds forming a ring of glittering promises. Her engagement and wedding rings. "You… You married him, didn't you?"

Mary looked at him, completely serious. "I did. Like I said, Raph, you should go. We're having a family dinner, and we've got people com-"

"Ma…re?" She turned around to see Marshall in the doorway. He gave her a questioning look and she shrugged, giving him a look in return that said, _I have no effing clue why he's here_, although she could guess, pretty accurately. He wanted to get back together. Obviously that was so out of the question, it wasn't even on the same page.

"Hello, Raphael," Marshall said, always the formally polite one to the people he didn't like. Mary had to fight to hold back a smirk. "To what do we owe this pleasure?" He put his arm protectively around her shoulder, also embracing his daughter in the process. She lifted her head and climbed across her mother to cling to her father, hugging his neck tightly. He hugged her back, and Raph realized a lost battle when he saw it.

"I should go." Mary and Marshall nodded in agreement simultaneously, sharing a look. Raphael left them, his car making a rumbling disturbance as he did so. Marshall put his arm back around Mary again, and they stood in the doorway until they saw Stan pull up. "Hey, you two," Stan said with a smile, handing a bag of chips. "How's the twins?" He eyed the girl in Marshall's arms and smiled fondly.

Mary smiled back and they went back into the house, ready to get on with their lives, and glad to see him go. "They're perfectly fine."


End file.
